


At the Heart of It

by Candlestic



Category: The First Drafthouse (Toonkind D&D), Toonkind D&D
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Spoilers for Stage Fright, Spoilers for Taffy Train saga, Taffy Train Family, The Huykuza, These people need to talk about what they've been through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candlestic/pseuds/Candlestic
Summary: Stage Fright might have been the first time the Taffy Train Family encountered the Huykuza's new leader but it would definitely not be the last. The Jester has set his sights upon the small group and has plans upon plans to take the Engineer down once and for all. In the lead up to Animas he has set another one of these schemes in motion, targeting at the very heart of what the influential film director holds dear and setting him on a race against the clock to get them back before he loses everything for good.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5





	1. It's a Trap

**Author's Note:**

> I had the desire to write this after listening to the "Stage Fright" games as well as the FPS "See Where the Good Grows" (there will be spoilers for both) as both impacted me deeply and set my imagination on fire. This is my way of sharing my love of all of these characters as well as trying to resolve some of the tension left over after those games.  
> As a result, this story takes place sometime after "See Where the Good Grows" but before "Snesine" and "That's a Wrap".  
> It is also, of course, a work of fiction and has no bearing on the canonical games but I hope you enjoy it none the less.

The Engineer sighed, running a hand down his face as he glared at the paperwork on his desk. Since Bob had begun working at Dodo Studios, the amount he’d had to do had reduced significantly. However, as the director of a multi-award-winning (half a) studio, it was inevitable that there would always be some of the infernal accounts to attend to. The short toon was not having a good day. Several mishaps that morning had put production behind schedule, meaning that instead of going Animas shopping with his kids he’d had to stay behind to sort those issues out. Then he’d spent a good portion of his afternoon trying yet again to fix pecking Penelope after, not one, but two accidents put the machine out of order. Several futile hours and some choice Grawlix later, the irate director had stomped off to his office muttering under his breath about the pecking idiot who had wired the darn thing up in the first place. 

Acutely aware of his mood, his owl employees had given him a wide berth, allowing him a few precious, peaceful minutes before the large pile of paperwork (topped with a short but bold note marking them due the next day) had greeted him.

The Engineer groaned, letting his head fall with a loud thunk onto the wooden surface of his desk. It was days like today that almost, _almost_ , made him wonder why he’d decided to go into the film-making business in the first place. 

Then he’d remember the rush of performing; of pushing himself to the very limits of his character design; of pouring his heart and soul into his work; of finally seeing the culmination of his efforts and the way his movies impacted the lives of others and knowing that the pride and satisfaction he felt was stronger for having overcome those hardships. And every time those memories were enough to harden his resolve to push through. 

So, with an exhausted sigh, he raised his head and resigned himself to today’s lot.

Just as he was reaching for the dreaded stack of papers with a grimace, however, his ear twitched at the sound of his office stone ringing.

“Hello?” the not-quite bird toon placed the receiver up to his ear, only to almost immediately pull it back as a loud and enthusiastic voice answered.

_“HI ENGINEER, IT’S ME RHODE! YOU REMEMBER ME!?”_

“Hello Rhode, of course ah remember ye. We made a movie together. Fer pecks sake, yer _in_ the studio once a week. Ah could nae forget ye even if ah wanted te. Ye don’ have te ask that every time ye call me,” he answered, a fond smile creeping its way up his face.

 _“Heh, ah know,”_ the blue moon witch sounded sheepish. _“Ah guess ah still get nervous and don’t know what else to say.”_

He shook his head, leaning back into his chair. This witch never ceased to surprise him. She was an incredibly talented actress, a decisive and caring leader and a wicked good shot and yet she still got nervous sometimes when talking to him. Perhaps it was his ego talking, but it warmed his old heart to know that he had been such an influence on someone as incredible and kind as Rhode. “Ye can answer the phone any way ye like. Now! What can ah do fer ye? As much as ah would love te jest chat with ye, ah know the both of us are far too busy fer that te be the only reason ye called.”

 _“Yea, you’d be right on that,”_ the Yupean woman’s tone turned serious. _“But it’s not so much what you can do for me and more what ah can do for you. Remember how you asked my girls and me to keep an eye out for any signs of the Huykuza?”_

At that, the Engineer straightened. “Go on.”

_“Well, two of my girls were in Toontown the other day and they heard rumours about some strange activity happening in the old, abandoned aquarium downtown. Nothing certain, but they did mention seeing a robotic fox with a trio of Hyenas. Ah thought you might be interested.”_

The short director was already out of his chair. He cast a quick, guilty glance at the paperwork before turning away. “Thank ye Rhode. Ah owe ye one.”

Rather than sounding pleased however, the witch toon’s voice came back surprisingly accusatory. _“You’re not going to investigate alone are ya?”_

The not-quite bird toon paused shamefaced, as he cast his mind out for potential companions. Normally, he would have no problem asking Larry to accompany him. But both he and Charlie were out shopping with Aurora and Snalien currently.

His heart clenched as his thoughts drifted back to their last encounter with the Huykuza. The old bird remembered how quiet and subdued Snalien had been from the moment he had mentioned Dora. It had taken days for the greyscale toon to get back to her usual cheerful self. And even though she appeared to be doing better now, she still refused to talk about it, adamantly changing the subject whenever it came up.

As for Aurora, well, other than giving them all a heart attack on multiple occasions during said encounter, the kid had seemed to handle the whole affair relatively well. Or at least he had thought so until they had come up to him a week later with plans for creating NASA.

He ran a hand through his feathers at the thought of _that_ conversation.

No, he was definitely not going to involve them in this. They were just kids, they shouldn’t have to worry about such heavy topics. He had brought them along to interrogate Dora because he owed them that. But now, he just wanted them as far away from the entire gang as possible.

As for the others at the studio. His mind flashed to Tobias and Prim before thoughts of ghost trains and too-blue Yupeans shut that train of thought down. He could always ask Rowan? But the guy already had his hands full with keeping the studio safe (peck knows he was the only effective security force they had).

No, the longer he thought about it, the more he didn’t want to involve anyone else in his mess if he could help it.

Steeling himself, he responded with a non-committal, “Ah’m not plannin’ on takin’ the whole place on. It would only be a reconnaissance mission. Get in, see what information ah can get ma hands on and get out.”

 _“Mmhhmm,”_ Rhode did not seem very convinced.

He tried again, “Ah promise ah’ll be in and out. Two hours tops.”

 _“Two hours,”_ the witch on the other end conceded. _“If ah don’t get a call from you then, ah’m calling everyone you know and telling them where you’ve gone. And then ah’m coming down to Toontown myself to find you, gun blazing. Don’t test me on this Engie, you know ah will.”_

“Ah know ye will,” the Engineer agreed with a fond chuckle even as his mind was already planning his mission. “Thank ye Rhode.”

 _“Two hours!”_ she responded before he hung up to prepare.

* * *

Shorts Kid smiled as the four toons strode through the Toontown Shopping District. The place was already decked out in Animas decorations, creating a colourful and pleasant atmosphere for the myriad of shoppers while cheery festive music spilled out of the stores.

In the child’s not-so biased opinion, today was going very well. Even though their train dad couldn’t make it, operation Make-Everyone-Happy had so far been a success.

Her eyes flicked over to where Snalien was riding atop Larry’s head. The greyscale toon wore a bright smile as she talked animatedly to the lanky toon about her latest library escapades, a small package clutched tightly in her free hand.

As far as Shorts Kid could tell, his snibling was genuinely content. There was no sign of the forced smiles she’d been trying to pass off or the long periods of silence the snail alien would dwell in when she thought no one was looking.

The grin slipped from the space wizard’s face a touch. Snalien still wouldn’t talk to them about anything that had happened on Halloween. Every time they had tried to bring it up she would say she was fine before not-so-subtly changing the subject. Obviously, this would require a different approach.

The weight of the Snail’s present in her pocket brought her focus down to it, bringing with it a swell of excitement and nerves. Given the snail toon’s recent interests, the eight-almost-nine-year-old was positive she would love it. Checking once more that the small package was tucked safely in their shorts’ pocket (they would have stored it in their hammerspace along with the others had Snalien not surprised them straight after buying it) before turning their attention back to the small group.

Next the space wizard’s gaze drifted down to their favourite noodleman, Larry. He too seemed to be enjoying himself (or at least be content with the current situation). He was harder to read than most, given the impassive nature of his mask. But Shorts Kid loved Larry and therefore had spent a long time learning his subtle tells.

His slouch was a good indicator. When it was too low and his seams were ever so slightly loose it meant he was exhausted and didn’t want to deal with people. Likewise, when it was too straight, it meant he was uncomfortable or alert. But right now it was sitting right in the middle in his normal relaxed position.

Similarly, his tone and the quiet interest in the ongoing conversation confirmed a level of ease that was normally hard to reach with the reserved toon.

And finally there was Charlie. Charlie was the hardest one for Shorts Kid to read. Not because he was impassive like Larry (quite the opposite actually) but because he was very good at masking his actual feelings. It was going to take the determined child a while longer before he was confident in his readings on the cat toon.

It was Charlie who was currently the one Shorts Kid was most worried about. They could still distinctly remember the words the cat had spoken during their last encounter with the Huykuza leader and the out-of-character way he’d acted when they had brought up their NASA idea.

He’d still agreed to help, the eight-year-old clutched tightly to that knowledge. The emotions could be worked out later as long as he stuck around.

Besides, he really did seem to be enjoying himself. Shorts Kid observed as the Warne cat gently teased Snalien with a wide smile, carrying a bunch of bags the child wasn’t certain he’d actually paid for.

Yes, she nodded in satisfaction, so far everything was going according to plan. Now they just had to make sure it stayed that way.

Excitement swelled up in their chest. This was going to be the first Animas he’d ever taken part in –it was a first for a lot of them actually – and he couldn’t wait to share it with his entire family.

“Hey Space-cadet zoning out on us a little there are ya?” Charlie’s words snapped them back to the present to see the other three staring at her expectantly.

“Huh?” was all they could manage.

The cat toon just shook his head with a fond grin.

However, before he could repeat the question, a hooded figure raced by them, snatching Snalien’s bag from her as they went.

“Hey!” the small, Rubberhose toon cried out in indignation before the group began to give chase.

* * *

The Engineer tread carefully down the dark hallway, the glow from his sword casting a soft, pink light for him to see by.

All around him lay empty or broken tanks, long dry from whatever contents they used to hold. A few were still intact but so overgrown and dirty that it was impossible to see what was beyond them much more than the occasional passing shadow.

It wasn’t just the exhibits that were worn down either, up above and along the walls, the remains of whatever electronics powered this place twisted and turned like long dead worms. Meanwhile, the floor underneath him was covered in a thick layer of dust and broken glass, shifted here and there with disorganised footprints that certified that at least someone had been here before him.

Every step was placed with the utmost care, his ears swivelling back and forth for any sign of something out of place; searching and scanning for any information he could get his clawed hands on as well as keeping a watchful eye out for anymore traps. He had already sprung two down on the first floor and barely made it past another three.

Despite his long history in Toontown, he didn’t know why this place had been abandoned nor was he sure why the Huykuza would even be interested in it. Perhaps it just another poor attempt on his life. However, if it wasn’t and it held information they could use to get one step ahead of the dangerous gang, then he would find it. Resolution sparked in his core as he slowly crept into a small side room. He may not know much yet, but he was determined to at least learn something here before he left.

A high-pitched beep sounded, causing the Warne toon to spin sharply. And yet, as quick as he was, he was not fast enough to stop the metal walls that slammed down around the room, sealing him inside.

He glared at the shiny barriers, before the floor rumbled beneath him and the sound of rushing water filled his ears. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach as liquid began to swirl around his feet.

“Oh peck.”

* * *

The four toons chased after the thief as they twisted and turned through the shopping centre’s hallways, weaving in and out of the crowds. Larry was still hot on the hooded figure’s tail, Snalien gripping tightly to his head as she shouted out directions to him. But even with his impressive dexterity and speed, the tall Rubberhose wasn’t making much headway. Not that there was much else they could do, the place was too crowded to risk using any magic or ranged weapons.

Further behind Shorts Kid and Charlie were slowly losing sight of both comrade and foe amide the crowded holiday shoppers.

The tabby-cat clicked his tongue in frustration, slowing down just enough to grab the kid’s hand before taking off down a small side alley.

“We’re not going to be of any use at this rate so time for a new strategy,” he explained briefly. “Come on! I reckon we can cut them off this way.”

Likewise, Larry was also starting to feel frustration bubble up within him as the thief once more gained ground by swerving to the side.

“This isn’t working!” he yelled up at Snalien.

The snail alien puffed out her cheeks as she thought aloud, “I’m thinking, I’m thinking. Umm, oh! He’ll have to leave at some point. If you can keep up with him until he gets to somewhere less crowded then I could summon Gregory!”

“Sounds like a plan,” the noodle man nodded before putting on a burst of speed to close the growing distance once more.

The three continued their chaotic chase, zig-zagging throughout the shopping complex in a seemingly random pattern. The unknown toon was fast, using their speed to weave between the crowds and take sharp, sudden turns with ease. Larry, of course, was no slouch either, using his natural dexterity to fit between the shoppers and his banjo to swipe away the obstacles the thief tried to put in their path. With a small stamina boost from Snalien, he had managed to keep the distance between them roughly equal, leaving it at a stalemate.

Realising this, the hooded thief took a sharp right turn before racing down a narrow gap between shops towards the empty street beyond. As they burst through the back entrance, Snalien began her summoning magic. Before she could get very far in the ritual however, a being blinked into existence bonking the thief over the head with a familiar key-staff and a second figure tackled them to the ground.

Larry and Snalien paused at the sight of Charlie grappling with the thief, throwing the figure’s hood off to reveal a dark-furred hedgehog toon. He sneered at the group before kicking the Tabby in the stomach and slipping out of his grasp, quickly making beeline for the warehouse behind them all.

Stopping just long enough to pick up the dropped present, the four once more gave pursuit.

This chase turned out to be much shorter than the first, as the quartet was forced to pause in confusion at the completely empty warehouse they had just entered.

* * *

Sloshing water churned around the Engineer’s waist as streams gushed in from the roof, filling the once empty room. The liquid continued to pour in at an alarming rate as the short toon pushed his way up to the closest wall and took a swing at it. All he succeeded in doing however, was leave a long char mark down the side of the polished metal.

When several more desperate swipes did nothing to even dent the surface, he gave up; sliding the deactivated sword back into his hammerspace as he quickly glanced around the room for an answer. By this stage, the water was already up to his neck and he felt his feet leave the ground in order to keep his head above the erratic waves.

Trying to find a balance between haste and thoroughness, the non-bird toon swam around the outside of the room; using the glow from his own adrenaline-lit form to search for a join or weakness in the barrier. Every surface however, remained steadfast and air-tight – as did the floor upon a quick investigation.

He burst back up to the surface for a breath of air, alarmed to find the roof already within touching distance. He didn’t have much longer to find a way out of this watery tomb.

Not expecting much, but unable to think of a better idea, he scanned the upper surface. With a sinking feeling, his suspicions were confirmed: the roof was just as smooth and impenetrable as the rest of the pecking place.

He took one last deep breath before the water rose above his head and he was left in an empty room filled to the brim with liquid.

No! This was not how it was going to end. He still had too much to do and too many people to live for. There was no way he was giving up just yet and there was definitely no pecking way this was how he went out. He just needed to think.

The small but determined toon cast his gaze around, looking for anything, anything at all that he could use. Then his scrutiny landed on the water vents.


	2. Dangerously Distracted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this chapter ended up being shorter than I expected. It was longer but I cut it because it flowed better into the next chapter. I guess the good news is that next chapter is going to be that much extra. Hope you enjoy!

The Engineer swam as fast as he could to the vent. Now that the room was filled with water, there was no longer a torrent of pressure to fight against and he was able to close the distance relatively quickly. Hope surged within him as he noticed the thin join around the entry-point, blockading a hole just big enough for a small toon like him to fit through. 

Throwing the full force of his strength (and a large amount of his desperation) behind him, the glowing Warne latched his claws into the seal and heaved. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, but slowly the covering came away in a hunk of twisted metal. That was all the incentive he needed and the old film director dove through the small opening. 

Inside of the vent was just as dark and just as wet as the room he had come from, but thankfully, it only took a quick touch to realise that the walls were much, more flimsy. Even within the restricted space, his claws made short work of the barrier causing him and the water to spill out into the room beyond. 

The Engineer hit the floor with an ungraceful thump, gasping and spluttering but finally taking in air. 

He lay there for a few moments more, allowing his body to catch up with his new air-filled surroundings before unsteadily pushing himself to his feet to look around the room. 

The place he found himself seemed to be a back hallway. Benches and broken cabinets lined the walls, now empty but well-worn from frequent use a long time in the past. Above his head, the water pipe he’d broken ran along the left-hand ceiling, disappearing round the end of the passageway that almost certainly led back to the central hall.

Still not seeing much of interest, the short director turned his attention to an open doorway just up ahead.

Proceeding even more carefully now, he slowly inched his into what appeared to be an office room. And yet, despite his precaution, the orange toon was not prepared for the sudden bright figure that leapt up in front of him.

* * *

The Engineer tensed at the sight of the garishly familiar (but also not) figure standing with stuttering static in the hologram before him. It definitely wasn’t a good sign that he knew he was here, but the not-quite bird toon stubbornly stood his ground. He had come all this way to look for answers and he was not leaving without them. 

“Well, hello there, my favourite, feathery friend! I’m so glad you could make it,” the tall figure grinned, his smile stretching so wide it bordered on unsettling. “Though I must apologise for my lacklustre welcome. If I’d had more time to prepare, I would have made sure everything was perfect for you.”

The Engineer shook off some of the excess liquid from his still sopping-wet sleeves, ears folding back further at the thought of the watery, death-trap the Jester had provided to ‘welcome’ him. 

“Fer little, old me? Nae, don’ bother. Ye knae flashy entrances are nae my style,” he bared his teeth in more of a snarl than a grin. “Now, wha’ are ye doin’ here? What’s this place fer?”

“Oh a little of this, a little of that,” he waved his hand in distain. “I’d tell you more of the details but I don’t want to booore you. Not when we could be talking about so many more interesting things. Like you and what you’ve been up to. You know I’m always interested in knowing more about your day to day life. Hmmm.”

“That’s between me an’ the people who actually care abowt mae well-being,” the feathered toon responded curtly.

“Why Engineer you wound me,” the colourful clown batted his long eyelashes at him. “Why must you always think I’m up to something? Could it be, that maybe, just maybe, I set this whooole thing up just to talk to you? We haven’t talked in sooo long.”

The golden glow of the Engineer’s form brightened in anger as he carefully sidestepped around the projection. The rundown office-space was mostly empty, but he could spot a glow of a monitor illuminating some cast-aside documents. This was the last place he had to check. The last place and then he could get out of this blasted hell-hole; out of this building that had most likely been set up purely to try and kill him off. But until he was 100% certain, he _had_ to stick around; had to try, even if it meant trying to converse with this maniac again.

“Ahm busy,” he retorted. “An’ Ah don’t want nor need ye in my life. So why don’ ye take the hint and peck off!” 

The holographic figure flickered, changing into a spindly, Hausen toon, as he tutted. Thankfully however, he did not seem to have noticed the Engineer’s movements. “Tsk tsk, such language. It’s no wonder your children have such poor manners. Better be careful or else someone might get the wrong idea. And well, we wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them now would we? At least, not until I get my hands on them.” His voice dropped down an octave and his form once more stuttered, shifting his form into that of a reelkind. 

The short, orange toon stop dead, turning his head slowly to give the Jester a frightening, eyeless glare. In a voice, barely above a whisper, he hissed, “If ye dare try anything, ah swear, there won’ be a place on this continent – nae this world – ye ken hide that ah won’ find ye. That is a promise.” 

“Oooh scary. I’m quivering in my boots.” The Jester’s form began to jiggle as he let out a hysterical laugh, still not looking the Engineer directly in the face. “But seriously, how are they? Traumatised by our last meeting I hope. I did do my best even if _none of you would die._ ” 

“Ye leave them owt of this!” Light flared out from the feathered figure before he took in a deep breath. He still had a job to do. With gritted determination he steadily began for the desk again. 

The Jester completely ignored him as he continued to ramble. “I’m sure they’ll shake it off! Those sort _always do_. Hmm, maybe an outing will cheer them up! Something like shopping with a pair of their best-est friends. A place to get out and try new things.” 

A shiver ran up the short toon’s side. Though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why, something about the Hyukuza leader’s words was not sitting right with him. His pace picked up as he almost ran the last couple of steps to his goal. 

“Life’s too short to not take some time for yourself. After all, you never know what might happen next. You never know who you’ll meet or what new surprises will be waiting for you right around the corner,” the Jester chuckled – a malicious sound without a hint of humour. “And what wonderful surprises they’ll be.” 

Orange claws reached out to turn the tv monitor towards him, only for the Engineer to freeze at the image paused on the screen. It was obvious it had been taken from a shopping mall security tape – very recently given that morning’s timestamp readable in the bottom corner. However, it was the four figures the camera was centred that held the toon’s immediate attention. In the middle of the group, Shorts Kid was posed half in the air from the swing Larry and Charlie were in the process of completing. Larry’s face was as impassive as normal but Charlie wore a small, fond smile. Atop Aurora’s head Snalien sat, gripping their hair with a beaming grin that perfectly matched her sibling’s.

Under any other circumstance the image would have brought a warm glow of happiness to the old film director. But here in this room – with the implication of what it meant staring him in the face – all he could feel was a slowly rising dread sinking its cold teeth into his frame and squeezing the air from his lungs. 

“What? I don’- no it cannae be.” For the second time today, he couldn’t breathe. But this time it was much worse. 

“Oh but I am! _Deadly serious_. You might want to move fast if you ever want to see them again. Alive that is.” As the holographic clown let out another mad laugh, the Engineer started in horror as the truth finally hit him. 

The projection was a recording. A distraction. This whole thing had been a diversion to give the Jester time to go after his real target: his family. 

Sucking in a breath that in no way eased his constricted lungs, the Engineer took off as fast as he could. And yet, despite his incredible speed, he couldn’t help but worry it wouldn’t be fast enough. 

* * *

To the folks walking down the main street of Toontown, weird and wacky occurrences were far from unusual. As a result it wasn’t as surprising as in other places when, what appeared to be a shooting star, sped down the street above their heads, ricocheting off of the nearby buildings as it went. 

Likewise, the Engineer didn’t bother to pay much attention to the few curious onlookers glancing up at his passing. He was too focused on getting to his children (yes all of them – regardless of how some might not admit it out loud) before the Hyukuza managed to get to them. 

Whether it was coincidence, paranoia or the intervention of the luck gods, the frantic toon’s hasty journey was slowed as he spotted a welcome face running in his direction. With a sharp heel turn, the glowing mass made a 90 degree turn to land in front of a very startled Charlie. 

The Engineer felt a quick rush of relief upon seeing the Warne cat before the dishevelled state of his fur and the fact that he was very much alone caused his fear to double.

Before he could react, the tabby cat grabbed his shoulders as a rush of words tumbled out around his ragged breathing. 

“YouhavetocomequicklywewereambushedintheemptywarehousebehindtheshoppingmallbytheHyukuzaandtheyhadsomethingthatstoppedmagicfrombeingcastIbarelymanagedtogetoutbuttheothersarestillin-” 

Before he could finish, the fiery director was already off once more down the street, Charlie following hot on his heels. 

* * *

The Engineer burst through the door of the warehouse like a bullet from hell only to immediately collapse to his knees. 

The building was empty. There was no one – friend or foe – to be found. 

Worse, however, was what little remained: five awfully recognisable objects. All colour left the feathered Sijhian. A numb shock enveloped him as a shaking, sepia hand reached for the small snail-sized helmet closest to him, cradling it close to his chest. 

That was how Charlie found him, panting for a breath that seemed to freeze in his lungs at the sight of the vacant room. A wave of guilt and shame crashed through the brown tabby-cat before he shoved it away. There was nothing he could have done, he reminded himself. Sure, there was a slim chance that if he had stayed that the other’s wouldn’t have been taken. But with no magic and separated from the others, it was far more likely he would have just ended up in the same position as them. He had been closest to the door and was their best chance of getting help. He had known it. Larry had known it. And even if he and the Engineer hadn’t made it back in time to help with the fight, that didn’t mean it was over. 

Latching onto that determination, the con-artist began to investigate the room. It may not be his best skill, but he’d be damned if that was going to stop him from finding his friends. 

The Engineer had barely even registered that Charlie had caught up. Unsteadily finding his feet, he began to collect the other discarded items; handling them (regardless of their strength) as if they were the most fragile objects in the world. One by one they went into his hammerspace. 

The helmet. A pair of silver slippers. A strange, key-shaped staff. A banjo. 

He paused before the last one. Then he gently picked up all six pieces of the broken mask. 

With each item, colour slowly began to fill his form again. By the time the mask was safely tucked away, the fiery director was closer to a lightbulb than a not-bird toon and the air around him shimmered from the heat he was producing. 

At the shift in environment, a startled Charlie looked up from the tire-tracks he’d found. Then, in one fluid movement, he was across the room, getting as close as he could to the (almost quite literally) fuming director. 

“Hey, hey. We’ll get them back. I promise,” he spoke in a comforting tone, leaning into the heat as much as he dared. 

“Ah should have been here. Ah should have known it was a trap. How could ah have been _so stupid!_ ” 

Charlie couldn’t tell if the warble in the Engineer’s voice was from his emotions or from the heat but neither filled him with comfort. The two of them may not be the closest (their past relationship was too complicated for that) but that didn’t mean the Warne cat didn’t care for the manic film director. Seeing him fall apart like this: quite frankly, it scared him. 

“It’s not your fault. You know that right? None of this is your fault,” Charlie’s words were firm, broaching no argument. “You made a mistake. Big deal. That doesn’t suddenly make this shit your fault.” 

“Ah know. Ah know.” The Engineer pulled in a deep breath, claws digging into the concrete floor as he focused on reducing his out-of-control temperature. “But it’s hard. Always bein’ targeted. Puttin’ those ah care about in danger. Makin’ them worry abowt mae. Always bein’ one step behind. Ah hate it. Ah hate feelin’ like ah have so little control over ma own life. Ah hate feelin’ like ah canae even protect ma own family.” 

A strange expression crossed Charlie’s face for a fleeting moment before it was gone. With a sigh, he put a hand on the now, warm (but not unbearable) shoulder of feathered Sijhian. 

“One step at a time. We’re going to get them back,” he poured every ounce of determination and belief he could into his words. “Those three are strong. I’m sure they’ll be alright until we get to them. And I think I have just the lead to get us started.” 

He pulled the shorter toon to his feet before heading back towards the tracks he’d found, throwing one more comment over his shoulder. “After that we’ll take on the Jester. I’ll even let you have the first hit.” 

The smile the Engineer shot him was grateful, but the laugh that sounded from him was dark. “Let me. Laddie, when ah get ma hands on that _thing_ yer gonnae have te pull me off of him if yer wan’ a piece left te have a go at.” 


	3. Locked and Loaded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm uploading this a little later than I'd planned but I'm pretty happy with this chapter. Action scenes are always some of my favourite to write and this one was great fun!

The four toons glanced about the barren warehouse but no matter how hard they looked there was no sign of anybody in the sparse environment. 

“But, we saw them come in here,” Snalien deflated a little from her high vantage point. She perked up with the gentle pat from Larry enough to add, “At least we got the bag back I guess.”

Charlie was already halfway up one of the walkway ladders, hoping to get a better look at the scene from a different angle. Meanwhile, Short’s Kid began to dash towards the opposite door only to be stopped as Larry snagged the back of their shirt.

“One thing at a time kid. Let’s try and stick together till then,” he urged her in a flat tone. She looked up at him with big eyes before conceding with a small nod. 

The three of them moved further into the empty room but it did little to provide any new evidence. The room was still vast, dimly lit and empty. A quick investigation of the back door also ruled it out due to a hefty, rusted lock bolted to the outside. 

Shorts Kid frowned, a puzzled expression crossing their face. “This… isn’t right,” they said softly, eyebrows furrowing upward. “Something… something feels weird.”

Snalien leant down to stare at him with wide, curious eyes, “Weird how?”

Only partially keeping an eye on the pair, Larry called up to the cat toon. “Yo Charlie! You see anything up there?”

Charlie too was looking around with a puzzled expression, a strange hint of unease causing the fur along his back and tail to rise. “No!” he called back, an unwelcome sense of wrong settling in the back of his mind and not letting go. He couldn’t put a finger on why but his instincts were screaming at him to get out! “Look, this is a dead end. We got the gift back, we should just go.”

He turned to head back to the others a little more hastily than he otherwise would have when a cold voice called out.

“Go? But you just got here! And after all the hard work we put in too!”

And with that the invisibility spell dropped, revealing the numerous pinstriped thugs surrounding them. 

Tensing and ready for action, Larry raised his banjo only to stop short when Shorts Kid collapsed behind him, clutching their stomach as the tell-tale feeling of a magic-nullification sphere enclosed the building.

He couldn’t afford to turn around to check on them (not with the threat looming so close) but Snalien had it covered, sliding off his head to check on their snibling. 

That was all he had time to see before the first thug lunged for them, only to get smashed in the face with the lanky toon’s signature weapon. 

“Kid, you alright?” he called out, wheeling around to catch an incoming strike headed towards the children. “What’s the matter?”

Breathing slowly through her nose, Shorts Kid grimaced through the pain, “Ugh, I don’t feel well. It feels all icky.”

The words caused Snalien’s head to shoot up in realisation and she exclaimed, “Oh! It must be the magic barrier. It’s cutting us off from our magic. And since you’ve always been more sensitive to that thing, it would make sense for it to be affecting you more.”

Larry faltered at the news. It was the tiniest stall in his otherwise fluid movements, but it was still enough to allow the incoming sword to strike him in the side. He let out a pained huff before kicking the snivelling weasel away. 

To say that a magic barrier was bad news, would be an understatement. The others weren’t helpless without their magic, but the odds had already not been in their favour before the nullification sphere had essentially taken out three fourths of their firepower – leaving him as the only one fighting with full capabilities. 

Larry wouldn’t call himself smart but he’d been around long enough to know that, unless they acted fast, this was going to go badly. 

“Charlie!” he called out spying the Tabby boxed in above them, “You need to get out now!”

The Warne cat was not having a good time. Surrounded on all sides with no tricks and no help, it had been pure luck that he had managed to dodge everything thrown his way so far.

“But-,” he wavered at the tall toon’s words, taking a punch to the face for his trouble. 

“Go! We can’t win this. And I can’t get the kids out from over here. Someone needs to get out and get help. It’s our only option.”

Charlie could not deny his words. Stuck on the other side of the room, it was taking all of the masked toon’s considerable effort to keep the mobsters away from the trio. Meanwhile, up on the catwalk he himself was a sitting duck – a sitting duck directly above the still open doorway. 

The tabby hated the idea with every fibre of his being but he knew what he had to do. 

“I’ll be back. Try not to die before then Legs,” he promised.

Larry grunted as a hammer glanced off his shoulder. “Working on it.”

Allowing his face to slide into a mask of determination, Charlie did what he did best in cases like this: fight dirty. 

As the next goon came at him he ducked under their arm, slashing the massive thug in the back of the shin with his claws as he came up behind them and toppling the giant into their companions. Given a brief moment of breathing space, he used it to vault over the railing and landed gracefully on the floor below with a toonish spring. There, the cat toon used every ounce of his momentum to quickly race towards the open doorway, sliding under the Hyena guarding it and completing his great escape.

Knowing that at least one of them had gotten out, Larry focused on the second part of their poorly made plan: trying to keep them all in one piece until reinforcements arrived. So far he had managed to tank all of the incoming attacks but the masked toon didn’t know how long their luck would hold up. 

Not long enough, his mind told him as another blow slid past his defences. He had never been the most optimistic of toons (life had never proven him otherwise), he knew his chances of fending off the literal waves of Huykuza thugs till help came were slim to none. Yes he had taken worse damage before and, yes, it would take a while for them to whittle him down, but all it would take was one slip up and it would be over for all of them. Yet despite their grim outlook, he still fought with all his might. If they were going to go down, so help him, he was going to make sure he took out as many of them as he could. And he was not going to let them touch the two kids behind him while he was still standing. 

Behind the raging Rubberhose, Shorts Kid slowly made it to their feet, a look of gritted determination etched into their face.

“Wait,” Snalien pleaded with her, worry darkening the greyscale toon’s eyes. “If you’re not feeling well-,”

“We have to help,” Shorts Kid countered her protests. “I’ll be fine. But we need to help Larry, Snalien!” 

The snail toon conceded, though worry still pulled at their expression.

Shorts Kid gave their sibling a weak but still feral grin, “I think it’s time we brought out the SK-Snail-Special.”

Larry ducked the baseball bat aimed at his head before slamming his banjo into the toon’s stomach and sending them sprawling. He did not see the wolf raising her sword to attack him from behind. However, before the mobster could bring her weapon down, a wooden staff collided with her face.

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” Shorts Kid shouted at the reeling toon. 

The mobster found her footing, readying another strike when Snalien leapt onto her face to give the toon a very up close and personal view of her rows and rows of teeth.

The mobster wolf let out a shriek, flailing backwards and over Shorts Kid’s outstretched leg as the eight-year-old plucked his sibling up as they fell. 

The next moment, his own shirt was yanked and he was moved out of the way of an incoming strike.

“Watch your back,” Larry said briefly as he let them go. His moment of distraction cost him however, as a pop-gun bullet tore a small hole through the side of his hoodie. “Hey!” he yelled, turning to face the ranged weasel. “That was brand new.”

The sneaky goon just snickered as they lined up another shot. 

The bullet exploded from the barrel only to collide with a hovering snelmet, set in defensive mode at the command of its wearer. He only had time for a brief look of surprise before the spikey end of the banjo connected with his jaw and stars began to spin around his head.

* * *

Watching from the pocket recorder clipped to the jacket of his mission leader, a colourful clown watch with avid interest at the scene playing out before him. 

As the small group slowly progressed across the warehouse floor, his grin lowered with every inch they managed to gain. All of the thought he’d put into this trap and yet they remained standing. Even the tall masked toon (who was still tanking various hits for the others) had stayed on his feet. They truly were a terribly tenacious bunch. It was as entertaining as it was infuriating. Only this time he had had enough. He had put too much effort into this plan for it to fail now and they were running out of time. Guess he needed to liven things up.

Curiosity sparked dangerously in the man’s eyes and his grin returned to its original size as a devious idea struck him.

“Aim for the face,” he told the instructed his lieutenant. “You know what to do after that.”

* * *

Larry ducked an incoming fist, swinging his weapon around and knocking the hyena back into the weasel aiming for Shorts Kid’s back. So far they were going ok. With the help of the other two, the lanky Rubberhose had gone from barely being able to defend their small group, to slowly but surely moving them towards the open doorway. They had made it to the centre of the open warehouse, without any serious injuries. Whether it continued that way however, remained to be seen. 

The fight had been drawn out and exhausting. How long had it been since Charlie had left? How long would it take before he came back or they made it out? He didn’t know the answer to that.

Could he keep everyone out of harm’s way until then? The slowly stacking aches along his form told him no. But his mind told him he had to. So he steeled himself against the pain and exhaustion. Even if nothing else, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure the kids made it out of this safe, no matter the cost to himself. 

A quick glance to his left reassured him that they were both still ok and in arms reach before he turned to face off against his next opponent. 

Doing so however, meant he missed the fast moving blur of the hedgehog thief from earlier. Just as Larry dispatched the monkey thug, the dark-furred Huykuza collided full force into him - directing his hit straight into the masked man’s face.

A resounding crack echoed in his ears. The tall toon reeled backwards, shaken in more ways than one as he felt the pieces of his mask fall to the floor.

Everything else was thrust into the background as terror gripped him. His mask was gone. Instinctively, he flinched forward, pulling his hood further down try and reduce the feelings of exposure and vulnerability; his mind pulled into an internal battle against an overwhelming flood of negative thoughts and emotions. 

“Larry!” someone screamed, reaching him through the haze of _fear, worthless, see you for what you really are_ and re-establishing a little coherency. 

Right, he still had a responsibility. The kids were in danger. He was in danger. He couldn’t afford to stall like this. He needed to make sure they were okay. He needed to reassure them that he was okay (even if he very much was not).

Regaining enough control to his shaking limbs he turned to the owner of the voice only to stop at the sight that met him. 

A large gorilla stood 10 feet away gripping Shorts Kid in one beefy arm and Snalien in the other (the latter’s snelmet stuck dejectedly under the goon’s foot). However, that was not what kept Larry frozen, breath caught in his throat and horror pooling in his figurative stomach. All of his attention was held fixed on the almost innocent looking water pistol pressed right up against the space wizard’s head by a deadly serious hedgehog.

“Now that we have your attention, why don’t you drop the banjo,” the mobster sneered.

Snalien wriggled and snarled in the tight grip, futilely showing off her intimidating teeth. Meanwhile, Shorts Kid remained still, face scrunched in annoyance at the pressure jabbing into their skull but otherwise unmoved by their current situation. Thankfully, both children remained unharmed. 

Larry’s grip on his weapon was so tight the strings began to creak in protest as he stood shaking on the spot. “They’re just kids,” he pleaded, “Leave them out of this. They have nothing to do with you.”

“Oh but they do!” A lithe figure sprung into existence as the clip on the hedgehog’s jacket came to life. The projected clown grinned, eyes locked directly on him. Unable to do anything under the fascinated scrutiny, the lanky toon was grateful that the dim lighting make it impossible to see his face. Not that it stopped the shiver of unease as the Jester continued. “My, my you are full of surprises aren’t you. Oh I do so love _chipping_ away at mysteries and _breaking_ them open, don’t you? Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! You three! And why you’re oh so important in my little scheme against dear, old Engineer. You see, you three are his favourites!”

His dramatic twirl was undercut as Snalien piped up. “Actually, dad doesn’t have favourites! He says that he loves us all equally, just in unique ways.”

The chaotic clown did a full body slump, flickering into a short, blocky Hausen as he gave the snail alien a disgusted look. “Ugh, that is sooo cliché. But fine, let’s say for arguments sake that _he loves you all equally_ ,” his pitch rose up into a mocking tone. 

“Well he does!” The greyscale toon persisted.

The colourful figure ignored her, “He is still veeery close to you three. He still spends a _lot_ of time around you. And it’s because of him that you all got caught up in this. Wouldn’t he feel _terrible_ if it was his fault something happened to all of you?”

“Yeah except it’s not his fault,” Shorts Kid cut in. “We chose to be with him. And the only reason he’s in danger is because of you, you peckneck!”

“You kids sure do know how to ruin a moment don’t you,” the Jester rounded on the pair.

The human wizard simply met his glare with a deadpan expression of his own. “You’re welcome fucker.”

A beat passed and then, surprisingly, the colourful Hausen burst into laughter, jittering into a more Sijhian appearance and making a gesture as if he was pinching their cheek. “Oh you’re always so much fun! I almost feel bad that I’m going to have to kill you. Now! Why don’t I put this in a way you’ll understand, hmm? Semantics aside, our firey, feathery friend cares _a lot_ about you and I’m sure he would be _devastated_ if anything were to happen to you. Why, I imagine he would do _anything_ to make sure you were all safe. Like, maybe, signing a contract that says he won’t make any more movies.” The hologram pulled an eerie purple contract out of his pocket, with a wicked grin, “The art of Soul Contracts isn’t just limited to Engineer’s little ghost buddy and I have many, many friends.”

“You can’t do that! Making movies is his life!” Snalien looked horrified. 

Likewise Shorts Kid felt anger bubbling up in her gut. Even with the gun pressed hard against their forehead, filled with a substance that definitely smelled too strong to be water, they weren’t worried about their own safety. No, he was always fine. It was always someone else he cared about getting hurt while he could do nothing but watch from the sidelines. It was happening again and he hated it.

In a fit of frustration, she kicked out, catching the gorilla in the shin (for all the good it did). “You’re not going to get away with this. We’re going to stop you just like we always do. And then we’re going to kick your ass and undo all of the shitty things you’ve done. And it’ll all be because you couldn’t just leave us alone. Just you wait!”

As they struggled and kicked and shouted, the smile on the Jester’s face dropped completely, as a rare hint of anger appeared on his features.

Panic surged like lightning through Larry, the lanky toon unable to do anything but call out, “Shorty. Aurora. _Please_. You need to stop.”

At the sound of her real name and the very audible fear in her all-but-name-brother, the space child stilled to instead glare at the hologram.

“Well, this has been fun but, my, look at the time,” the grin returned to the chaotic clown’s face as a life-sized cuckoo clock surged out of his wrist watch. “Our grouchy, old director will soon be done with his own adventure so let’s get this show on the road!”

He let out a sharp whistle and the roller doors were pulled up to reveal an armoured van with a large, sturdy looking bank vault sitting in the back. One of the remaining weasels spun the wheel on the front, unlocking the safe and exposing a space large enough to fit three or four toons inside it.

With a smug grin and eyes still locked onto Larry, the hedgehog shifting the loaded water gun as he said. “I would get a move on if I was you.”

The tall toon remained stationary for a long, tense moment before he dropped the banjo and slowly climbed into the safe. 

The space inside was barely tall enough for him to stand hunched over. A small dingy looking light flickered in the roof to illuminate the enclosed space but Larry paid very little attention to that. Instead he turned to glare at the Huykuza gorilla as she tossed two very irate children in after him.

Then the vault door was slammed shut, locking them inside with a finalising click.


	4. On the Move

The Engineer followed as Charlie led them down a quiet side street in lower Toontown. He glanced at the sky, already painted in a wash of orange and reds as the sun began to descend below the horizon, before he forcefully stilled the flexing of his claws. He didn’t want to waste a single moment while his family was in the clutches of that lunatic but he trusted Charlie’s judgement.

The tire tracks the pair had found had been a dead end as soon as they had reached the main road. However, a quick chat with the coffee shop patrons across the street had yielded a vehicle description. And that, apparently was all Charlie had needed.

With a brief, “Don’t worry, I know a guy,” the pair had taken a detour to find themselves now outside of a fairly decrepit store front.

“Here we are,” the Tabby toon gave a small flourish before entering. After a slight moment of hesitation, the golden coloured bird toon followed.

The inside of the shop was just as rundown as the outside, containing a random assortment of knick-knacks seemingly related to time? Schedules? The Engineer wasn’t sure. Clocks of various sizes dotted the walls, bookshelves were filled with calendars, dairies and notebooks and a dusty display case along the front counter held several magical organisers.

Behind the counter, a gangly, nervous looking chicken was scratching hasty notes down before the doorbell had him shooting up straight.

“Hey Specs, long time no see. How’ve you been?” Charlie greeted the chicken toon warmly.

A small smile wormed its way onto the store owner’s beak, “Charlie B-black. It has b-been a while – 2 years and 56 days to b-be exact. I’ve b-been alright. Things are relatively stab-b-le here, even if the recent turb-bulence has b-been messing with my schedules. And yourself?”

“Eh, can’t complain” the cat toon shrugged. Catching the impatient drumming of the Engineer’s fingers on his folded arms, he continued more seriously, “Listen, I need a favour.”

The shopkeeper’s glaze flicked over to the movie director, recognition and curiosity apparent in his eyes before returning his attention to his friend. Pushing his glasses up his beak he nodded, “I figured as much. What can I do for you?”

“Need to find the location of a vehicle. Do you have the routes of all the armoured vans that happened in Toontown today?”

The twitchy Frankenallie raised an eyebrow at his request before scoffing, “What do you take me for? Of course I do. Give me one moment and I’ll b-be b-back.”

The fiery director watched the chicken scuttle into the back room before turning to Charlie.  
“Friend of yers?”

The tabby cat grinned warmly. “Yeah. Hugo First, best city planner you’ll ever meet. I met him a while back when we were -ah well, probably shouldn’t be telling you that. Suffice to say, he’s a good person to have your back.”  
The Engineer’s ear twitched and if he had eyes, Charlie got the distinct impression they would be trained on the back room. “Ah’ll admit,” he said softly, “he’s nae the sort ah would expect te have ma back.”

“Don’t let the skittish nature fool ya,” the Warne toon clapped the shorter toon on the back, “Spec’s good for his word and is one of the bravest souls I’ve ever met – and that’s not easy to find in my line of work. The guy’s gotten me out of a few tight spots in the past.”

The Chicken toon remerged, carrying a stack of binders that landed with a solid sound as he dropped them on the countertop.

“Alright, you’re looking for money routes and today is a Friday so…” the scrawny bird muttered to himself as he sifted through the pile. “That would b-be – Aha!” With a proud look he placed the currently open file down, gesturing to the long list presented within. 

The Engineer stared hard at the page, trying to decipher the information within. Meanwhile, Charlie took one glance at it before turning back to his friend.

“Know if any of these didn’t run on time today? We’re, ah, looking for something that might have ended up in one around ehh, probably 4 this afternoon,” Charlie chose his words carefully. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Hugo, in fact he was probably the most reliable guy the con-artist knew. Able to help find almost any sort of information, the chicken toon didn’t ask questions and always held up his end of the deal. But this was different. It was personal and it was dangerous. Given the clientele the Frankenalie saw, the less information he knew the safer it probably was for everyone involved.

Hugo frowned, scanning the list in mere minutes as the Engineer continued to slowly and stubbornly read through it.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he answered honestly. “To the b-best of my knowledge – and it is quite extensive – everything was as it should b-be today. Perhaps some of your information is wrong or incomplete?”

Charlie leaned back on the counter, thinking hard but his mind kept coming up blank. He let out a sigh, readying himself to do things the hard way when the old film-maker beside him let out a shout of triumph.

“There,” he exclaimed, pointing an entry out to the cat toon.

Charlie leant over to read it and felt his heartrate pick up. There had been one registered to the Toontown Shopping District at 4:15pm by a Mr Harvey Quinn. 

Looking up at the twitchy shopkeeper with laser focus the Warne bard asked, “Where was this van going?”

“The Southside warehouses in Framor town,” he answered with a quick glance at the entry in question.

With that information, the fiery not-bird toon headed immediately for the door, with a brief, “Thank ye fer yer time.”

He’d barely made it one step however, before Charlie latched onto his arm, slowing him slightly as he dragged the cat toon towards the shop front.

“Hold on,” the tabby tried to reason with him. “It’s too late in the evening. None of the trains will be running and we can’t just walk there.”

“Ah can and ah will. Ah’m nae resting until ah get ma family back!”

“Fine and then what?” Charlie tried again, not pulling his punches. It may be harsh, but if it got them all out of this alive then he didn’t care. “You’re no use to them dead on your feet and you can bet they’ll be expecting you. You need to rest, otherwise the only thing you’ll be is a liability. Not thinking things through is how you ended up in this mess in the first place. You really want to do that to them again?”

That got the angry director to stop, “But they could be hurt.”

The tabby cat let go with a deep breath, “The Huykuza took them alive. That’s got to count for something. I’m sure they’ll be alright for one night.”

Indecision played across the shorter toon’s face, his feathers flickering with the turbulent emotions. Then he let out a sigh, shoulders slumped in resignation. “Alreeght.”

A tense silence fell over the room.

“Ah, if you need a place to stay,” Hugo piped up, wringing his hands nervously. “This place is real close to the Framor line. I can put you up for the night.”

“Thanks Specs,” Charlie sent the chicken a grateful nod, sliding a few gold pieces over to him. 

“I’ll just go set that up for you,” The gangly Frankenalie took the coins before hastily retreating upstairs and leaving the pair some time to themselves. 

* * *

Larry punched the wall of their enclosure before the weight of his injures brought him to his knees.

This was bad. They were trapped with no weapons, no magic and no access to their hammerspaces, in a fully enclosed box sorely lacking in any openings that he or Snalien could exploit. They were stuck at the mercy of a psychopath – who had directly expressed a desire to kill them – to be used as hostages against the person closest to them. And to top it all off, in his efforts to keep the other two from harm, he had taken enough damage to hinder his ability to stand. 

The pain the tall toon could shoulder, but it was the helplessness and the uncertainty of no longer being able to protect the people he cared about that tore him up inside.

All of his doubts and fears were quickly cast aside however. Right now, his own state of health did not matter as much as the two pairs of big, worried eyes trained directly on him or the two sets of hands (or in one case nubbens) curling into the fabric of his clothing to find reassurance.

“Larry, are you okay?”

“They hurt you!”

“Where does it hurt most?”

“That’s not okay!”

“I tried to help-”

Their voices rose in a swell of panic, overriding and increasing the other’s noise and drowning out any word he tried to get in edgewise.

The high tension completely wiping their current predicament from her mind, Snalien tried to cast a healing spell only for the magic to cut out jarringly before it was even started, distressing the small, alien toon further.

“Oh this is all my fault,” the greyscale snail wailed. “If I hadn’t lost my present we would never would have ended up in the warehouse and then the Huykuza wouldn’t have been able to trap us and now Larry’s hurt and I can’t even heal him and I feel so useless!”

That got Shorts Kid’s attention and they turned sharply to their snibling. “That’s not true! You are plenty useful. Besides, I was the one taken hostage again and it was my idea to go shopping in the first place.”

“Only because you were trying to cheer me up. I know you think I need it after visiting- after we-after Halloween.”

The human child stamped his foot, “That’s because you won’t talk about it. I know it upset you. I know it still upsets you but you won’t talk to me. You won’t talk to train dad. You just try to pretend nothing’s wrong when it’s hurting you!”

“I haven’t said anything because I’ve been trying to support you!” that made Snalien angry, their cheeks puffing out and their eyes narrowing as they shot back, “You think I don’t know how much this is effecting you? You completely closed down after the Taffy Train. I’m not stupid, I’ve seen the way your eyes change colour when you think no one is watching and I’ve heard you wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares.”

“Oh yeah, well you-”

“ENOUGH!” Larry roared, bringing the rapidly spiralling fight to an abrupt end. Silence descended over them all like a bumped record player and two surprised faces turned back to him. 

The lanky toon sighed, going to rub at his mask, only for his hand to pass through where it normally sat. The unpleasant feeling of being exposed once more reared its ugly head and he quickly pulled the limb back as he continued in his quieter tone, “Look. Nothing about what we’ve been through is normal, and it’s going to leave scars, physically and mentally, on all of us. But fighting amongst ourselves – especially now – isn’t going to help anyone. We’re going to need to work together to get out this. Got it?”

“Alright,” Snalien conceded with sullen agreement the barest traces of guilt already showing on her face.

Shorts Kid was silent for much longer, twisting their fingers together before finding the right words.  
“I’m sorry,” she said softly to the little toon. “You’re right. It has been hard for me. A lot of bad things have happened and my time-pieces aren’t working so I can’t fix anything. And so far it’s all turned out okay but I get scared that something really bad will happen and I won’t be able to do anything about it. That I’ll be left all alone again knowing I could have done something but it didn’t work. That’s what my nightmares are about. It- it scares me a lot. Our guidance counsellor says that it’s normal to feel that way but that I need to stop worrying about the things I can’t control and focus on the things that I can. So I want to make sure you’re all alright. I want to make you happy and make sure you’re not hurting because that’s something I _can_ do. You’ve been there to support me so now I want to support you back.”

The greyscale toon blinked their pie-eyes up at their snibling trying to keep the waterworks at bay. But when Shorts Kid picked them up and nuzzled the side of her shell, she could no longer contain it. Tears, streamed down her face, mingling with her slime as she clung to the space wizard. 

“I’m sorry! I’m trying to be strong and I’m trying to be happy because I don’t know what else to do! Sometimes I think about Dora, or the Jester or of space and it hurts. It still hurts so much, even after all this time and I hate it. So I try not to think about it. But lately it seems to be all I can think about even when I’m trying _really_ hard, and I wonder if maybe I’m broken?”

Shorts Kid clutched her even tighter tears streaming down her own face. “You’re not broken or useless,” she whispered. “You’re the best snail alien sibling anyone could ever ask for. Like Larry said, it’s normal feel this way after everything. But if you don’t talk about it and bottle everything up, you won’t be about to heal.”

“Y-yeah,” an unknown weight, Snalien didn’t realise she had been carrying, seemed to lift from her spirit as she wiped at her eyes (leaving more slime in its wake). It definitely hadn’t fixed everything, and while the tears had left her physically exhausted, the alien toon felt strangely lighter than she had in a while.

Noticing this, Shorts Kid gave a watery grin of his own. “When this is all over, maybe you should talk to our guidance counsellor too. She’s nice and she has candy.”

“Maybe,” Snalien nodded. 

Satisfied at the outcome of their heart to heart, the two children turned to look up at the lanky toon whose lap they had ended up nestled in.

“What about you Larry?”

Larry met their gaze, “What about me?”

“Are you okay?” Snalien pushed.

“I’m- I’ll be alright,” the tall toon stopped himself from brushing the question off. He clearly wasn’t doing well and the pair were smart enough to know it. Instead, to reassure them, he reached into his hoodie before pulling out a pair of health potions. “Always carry a couple of these around. Given how accident prone the studio is, it’s safer to have some on hand.”

Without any preamble, he drank them, trying to ignore the intensity of the stares as they watched him do so, instead focusing on the rejuvenating energy and the slowly dulling pain as the Mysteriowls potions did their work.  
“See, nothing to worry about,” he ruffled Shorts Kid’s hair and gently stroked Snalien’s antennas.

The two gave him warm but uncertain smiles, worry still lingering in their eyes.

“Are you sure?” Snalien asked. “Even- even if you’re going to be okay physically, are you also okay emotionally?”

At the question the tall toon let out a long sigh before he gave their small enclosure another sweep. Nothing much had changed. The door was still sealed tight, the walls were still impenetrable and the light was still flickering above in time with the floor beneath them. It had begun shaking not long after they had been forced inside; an unpleasant reminder of their transit to some unknown, secondary location.

“As well as I can be given the current situation,” he finally answered. 

Settling into the corner furthest from the door, he allowed the pair to cuddle close to his chest. “Might as well get some rest while we can. Something tells me we’re going to be here for a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the chicken character here is a homage to the one we found in my second ever dnd game. Our ranger befriended it and put the armour we found on it and then we went and fought a hyrda. It constantly rolled high enough on it's wisdom saves to stick around and tank some hits that probably would have killed one of us if it wasn't there. Plus I liked the image of a nervous chicken character that's actually super brave.


End file.
